Bigman felt stymied. He said, "What are you doing now? Playing a game by yourself?"
"No, solving a problem. The pieces are arranged just so, you see, and there's one way and only one in which white can win the game in exactly three moves and I'm trying to find that way."
Bigman said suddenly, "How can you tell white from black?"
Norrich laughed. "If you'll look closely, you'll see the white pieces are grooved along the rims and the black pieces aren't."
"Oh. Then you have to remember where all the pieces are, don't you?"
"That's not hard," Norrich said. "It sounds as though you would need a photographic memory, but actually all I have to do is pass my hand over the board and check the pieces any time. You'll notice the squares are marked off by little grooves, too."
Bigman found himself breathing hard. He had forgotten about the squares on the checkerboard, and they were grooved off. He felt as though he were playing a kind of a chess game of Ms own, one in which he was being badly beaten.
"Mind if I watch?" he said sharply. "Maybe I can figure out the right moves."
"By all means," said Norrich. "I wish you could. I've been at this for half an hour and I'm getting frustrated."
There was silence for a minute or more, and then Bigman rose, his body tense and catlike in its effort to make no noise. He drew a small flashlight from one pocket and stepped toward the wall in little motions. Norrich never moved from his bowed position over the chessboard. Bigman threw a quick glance toward Mutt, but the dog made no move, either.
Bigman reached the wall and, hardly breathing, put one hand lightly and noiselessly over the light patch. At once, the light in the room went out and a profound darkness rested everywhere.
Bigman remembered the direction in which Norrich's chair was. He raised the flashlight.
He heard a muted thump and then Norrich's voice calling out in surprise and a little displeasure, "Why did you put out the light, Bigman?"
"That does it," yelled Bigman in triumph. He let the flashlight's beam shine full on Norrich's broad face. "You're not blind at all, you spy."
9. The Agrav Ship
Norrich cried out, "I don't know what you're doing, but Space, man, don't do anything sudden or Mutt will jump you!"
"You know exactly what I'm doing," said Bigman, "because you can see well enough I'm drawing my needle-gun, and I think you've heard I'm a dead shot. If your dog moves in my direction, it's the end for him."
"Don't hurt Mutt. Please!"
Bigman was taken aback by the sudden anguish in the other's voice. He said, "Just keep him quiet then and come with me and no one will be hurt. We'll go see Lucky. And if we pass anyone in the corridor, don't you say anything but 'Good day.' I'll be right beside you, you know."
Norrich said, "I can't go without Mutt."
"Sure you can," said Bigman. "It's only five steps down the corridor. Even if you were really blind, you could manage that-a fellow who can do threedees and all."
Lucky lifted the viewer from his head at the sound of the door opening and said, "Good day, Norrich. Where's Mutt?"
Bigman spoke before the other had a chance to answer. "Mutt's in Norrich's room, and Norrich doesn't need him. Sands of Mars. Lucky, Norrich isn't any blinder than we are!"
"What?"
Norrich began, "Your friend is quite mistaken, Mr. Starr. I want to say-"
Bigman snapped. "Quiet, you! I'll talk, and then when you're invited, you can make some remarks."
Lucky folded his arms. "If you don't mind, Mr. Norrich, I'd like to hear what Bigman has on his mind. And meanwhile, Bigman, suppose you put away the needle-gun."
Bigman did so with a grimace. He said, "Look, Lucky, I suspected this cobber from the beginning. Those threedee puzzles of his set me to thinking. He was just a little too good. I got to wondering right away that he might be the spy."
"That's the second time you've called me a spy," Norrich cried. "I won't stand for that."
"Look, Lucky," said Bigman, ignoring Norrich's outcry, "it would be a clever move to have a spy a supposed blind man. He could see an awful lot no one would think he was seeing. People wouldn't cover up. They wouldn't hide things. He could be staring right at some vital document and they'd think, 'It's only poor Norrich. He can't see.' More likely they wouldn't give it a thought at all. Sands of Mars, it would be a perfect setup!"
Norrich was looking more astonished with every moment. "But I am blind. If it's the threedee puzzles or the chess, I've explained-"
"Oh, sure, you've explained," Bigman said scornfully. "You've been practicing explanations for years. How come you sit in the privacy of your room with the lights on, though? When I walked in, Lucky, about half an hour ago, the light was on. He hadn't just put it on for me. The switch was too far away from where he was sitting. Why?"
"Why not?" said Norrich. "It makes no difference to me whether it's on or not, so it might as well be on as long as I'm awake for the convenience of those who come visiting, like you."
"All right," said Bigman. "That shows how he can think up an explanation for everything-how he can play chess, how he can identify the pieces, everything. Once he almost forgot himself. He dropped one of his chess pieces and bent to pick it up when he remembered just in time and asked me to do it for him."
"Usually," said Norrich, "I can tell where something drops by the sound. This piece rolled."
"Go on, explain," said Bigman. "It won't help you because there's one thing you can't explain. Lucky, I was going to test him. I was going to put out the light, then flash my pocketlight in his eyes at full intensity. If he weren't blind, he'd be bound to jump or blink his eyes anyway. I was sure I'd get him. But I didn't even have to go that far. As soon as I put out the light, the poor cobber forgets himself and says, 'Why did you put out the light?'… How did he know I put out the light, Lucky? How did he know?"
"But-" Norrich began.
Bigman drove on. "He can feel chess pieces and threedee puzzles and all that but he can't feel light going out. He had to see that."
Lucky said, "I think it's time to let Mr. Norrich say something."
Norrich said, "Thank you. I may be blind, Councilman, but my dog is not. When I put out the light at night, it makes no difference to me, as I said before, but to Mutt it signals bedtime and he goes to his own corner. Now I heard Bigman tiptoe to the wall in the direction of the light switch. He was trying to move without sound, but a man who has been blind for five years can hear the lightest tiptoe. A moment after he stopped walking I heard Mutt jump into his corner. It didn't take much brain power to figure out what had happened. Bigman was standing at the light switch and Mutt was turning in for the night. Obviously he had put out the light."
The engineer turned his sightless face in the direction first of Bigman, then of Lucky, as though straining his ears for an answer.
Lucky said, "Yes, I see. It seems we owe you an apology."
Bigman's gnomelike face screwed up unhappily. "But Lucky-"
Lucky shook his head. "Let go, Bigman! Never hang on to a theory after it's been exploded. I hope you understand, Mr. Norrich, that Bigman was only doing what he felt to be his duty."
"I wish he had asked a few questions before acting,'' said Norrich, coldly, "Now may I go? Do you mind?"
"You may go. As an official request, however, please make no mention of what has occurred to anyone. That's quite important."
Norrich said, "It comes under the heading of false arrest, I imagine, but we'll let it go. I won't mention this." He walked to the door, reached the signal patch with a minimum of fumbling, and walked out.
Bigman turned almost at once to Lucky. "It was a trick. You shouldn't have let him go."